


Glances and Advances

by adrianna_m_scovill



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Masturbation in Shower, Mutual Pining, but not really, quarantine fic, tags are hard and so is Barba
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:20:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23761450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adrianna_m_scovill/pseuds/adrianna_m_scovill
Summary: Barba has generously allowed Carisi to stay with him while the city is locked down under quarantine, but having another person in his apartment is requiring some adjustment. He might need to start locking his bathroom door, or invest in a darker shower curtain.Or, maybe not.
Relationships: Rafael Barba & Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr., Rafael Barba/Dominick "Sonny" Carisi Jr.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 171





	Glances and Advances

_I picked the worst possible time to come back to the city_ , Barba thought, closing his eyes. “What?” he asked through clenched teeth.

“You almost done in there?” Carisi called through the bathroom door.

Barba, who’d just finished lathering shampoo into his hair, made no effort to keep the annoyance from his voice when he answered: “Not particularly.”

“I really gotta go.”

“ _Go_?” Barba repeated, looking at the door as though Carisi would be able to feel his scornful glare through the wood. “What’re you, a five-year-old?”

“I’m gonna piss my pants, how’s that?”

“It didn’t occur to you to mention it ten minutes ago, before—”

“Ten minutes ago I was sleeping,” Carisi shot back, and he sounded as annoyed as Barba.

“You should have your prostate checked,” Barba said before he could stop himself.

“I’ll take it under advisement,” Carisi answered after only a brief hesitation, and Barba smiled in spite of himself. His smile evaporated at Carisi’s next words: “I’m coming in.”

“ _What_? The fuck you are—”

“You want me to piss in your kitchen sink?”

Barba opened his mouth to say he’d prefer Carisi urinate in his own apartment, but he bit the words back. They were a little too mean. Carisi hadn’t chosen to find himself displaced from his apartment in the midst of a global pandemic, and despite the irritation of having someone constantly invading his space and privacy and quietude, Barba knew he shouldn’t be so ungrateful. He was glad he’d gotten out of the rural Midwest before lockdown, and Carisi seemed to enjoy cooking ridiculously elaborate meals—which definitely counted as _several_ points in his favor even if Barba was loath to admit it.

“Didn’t think so,” Carisi said into Barba’s silence. “Seriously, I’m coming in, it’s an emergency.” Despite this proclamation, there was another pause that lasted several seconds—presumably Carisi giving Barba the chance to refuse, although how could he _really_? He’d have to be a pretty big asshole to say no in the face of Carisi’s desperation, but Barba couldn’t help a moment’s bitter regret that he hadn’t locked the door before getting into the shower.

Carisi opened the door and stepped into the small bathroom, making a beeline for the toilet. Barba, who’d never before had reason to regret hanging a fully-translucent shower curtain, suddenly had no idea what the hell to do with himself. The shampoo trickling down his temples was forgotten. Should he turn around? Cover himself? Both options seemed somehow too _obvious_.

Carisi flipped up the toilet lid and seat and sighed in relief a moment later as his steady stream of urine joined the sounds of the shower. He’d pulled himself free from his pajama bottoms without pushing them down his slender hips, revealing only a slight hint of the curve of his ass and the shadowy recess dipping between his pale cheeks. He held himself between thumb and forefinger as he peed, leaving little to the imagination even though his balls were still nestled safely inside his cotton pants.

He was bigger than Barba expected, in length if not girth.

Barba jerked his eyes up to Carisi’s face. He’d never realized how close his toilet was to the shower; even through the water-dappled curtain, there was no way he’d be able to hide the guilt in his expression.

Carisi wasn’t looking at Barba’s face, though. His gaze was sliding down Barba’s wet, soapy body, landing heavily on the semi-erection slanting out of his dark, sudsy curls. Barba immediately felt himself hardening, and he turned so quickly that he almost lost his footing in the slippery tub. He cursed himself a dozen times for not turning around the moment Carisi had entered the room. Now the younger man was going to think his state of arousal was because of _him_ , and how the _hell_ were they supposed to watch cheesy reality TV beside each other on the sofa without both feeling awkward about this entirely-preventable situation?

“You’re looking!” Barba exclaimed as he helplessly showed his naked backside to Carisi. He knew the accusation was stupid and hypocritical.

“Sorry,” Carisi answered. He paused. “How’d you know if you weren’t looking, too?”

Barba clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, standing in the spray of hot water with his back to the clear curtain. He had no idea what to do with his hands. “Are you staying in here all day?” he snapped after a few more seconds.

“Sorry,” Carisi repeated. “Thanks,” he added, and a moment later Barba let out a breath when he heard the door click shut. He glanced over his shoulder to make sure he was alone in the room, even though he knew deception wasn’t Carisi’s style.

Barba made a sound of frustration and looked down at himself. He winced as shampoo trickled into his eye, burning, and swiped it away with a wet hand before turning his face into the hot spray. It had been a long time since any hands had touched him that weren’t his own—longer than he cared to admit—but that was no excuse for being fully, almost painfully hard from nothing more than another man _looking_ at him.

Of course it didn’t help that he’d looked, too, and seeing Carisi’s impressive _flaccid_ size was making it impossible for Barba to stop imagining all the possibilities—

He ground his teeth and reached up to quickly and angrily scrub the lather from his hair. He deserved the burning eyes, and the churning embarrassment, and the discomfort of a throbbing erection that would remain untouched. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was going to finish himself off now, knowing that Carisi was out there in the other room fully aware of his arousal.

As soon as he was adequately rinsed, Barba reached down and cranked the cold water while muttering a string of curses beneath his breath.

* * *

Carisi had already cooked breakfast by the time Barba emerged from the bathroom—the scent of omelets, waffles, and fresh coffee assaulted Barba as soon as he stepped through the door, and his stomach rumbled in response.

Carisi was sitting on the sofa, which he’d been using as a bed for the past two weeks. He’d stacked the pillow and folded blankets neatly on the back of one end, however, as he always did when he got up in the morning. For his part, he did everything he could to make his presence in Barba’s apartment unobtrusive.

Now, he was sitting on the couch but he was far from relaxed. His knee was bouncing. He’d gotten dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and his gaze skimmed quickly down Barba’s body—khakis and a polo; even doing most of his work from home, it was difficult for Barba to fully commit to casualwear without sacrificing some of his sense of normalcy and routine—before skating away.

“Smells good,” Barba said. A small attempt to break the ice, even if his voice was gruffer than intended. It was still early. Too early for breakfast on a day when neither of them would be leaving the apartment. He almost said so, but decided against it. The early start was his own fault, as he’d been the one in the shower before the crack of dawn. And, he knew Carisi well enough to know the man was as likely to cook out of agitation as hunger.

“Oh, yeah, it’s all ready,” Carisi answered, hooking a quick thumb over his shoulder toward the kitchen. His knee continued to bounce. “Nothin’ fancy.”

“Well. Smells fancier than toast,” Barba said. He smoothed his hands down his sides, fighting the overwhelming urge to fidget. He cleared his throat. “Listen, from now on—”

“I know, I know,” Carisi interrupted, holding up a hand. “I’m sorry. It really was an emergency, y’know, I wasn’t just—Anyway, it won’t happen again.” He surged a little too quickly to his feet and turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll just get up earlier, I mean I know you like to shower first thing,” he continued as he walked away from Barba. Barba took a few seconds to admire the way his worn, faded jeans contoured to his ass with each step.

He hadn’t had a view like that in Iowa.

Barba shook his head and looked away, cursing himself again. He needed to curb his dangerous—and inappropriate—thoughts. It had taken far too long in a cold shower to get his body under control. He wasn’t a horny teenager and he wasn’t going to start acting like one just because he and Carisi were cooped up in an apartment together.

Carisi, he realized, was still rambling: “—don’t want things to be awkward, you know I’d go to family but I’m worried about exposing them to something, I appreciate you letting me stay here and I guess I wasn’t thinking about, y’know…your routine, and—”

“My routine?” Barba interrupted, frowning. He suddenly realized he’d been trailing along behind Carisi toward the kitchen, and he drew up short when Carisi turned to face him. Carisi blinked, surprised to find him only a few steps away. Barba tried to organize his thoughts. “I was going to say, from now on I’ll check with you before I get in the shower. Wake you up or something.”

“Oh.” Carisi shifted his weight, cocking one bony hip, but Barba studiously and admirably kept his eyes from straying downward to see how well the jeans now hugged the man’s crotch. Knowing now for sure what Carisi was stowing, Barba supposed that thin layer of denim should be getting hazard pay. “Okay. Well, I mean, I’m just the guest here, I don’t wanna interfere…”

“Interfere,” Barba repeated, studying Carisi’s face and flushed cheeks.

“Yeah, I guess I just never thought of you as…you know.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me say it.”

“First of all, you’re going to have to say _some_ thing intelligible because I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about. And secondly, you’ve been staring at my crotch for twenty seconds, could you please—”

“What? No, I wasn’t,” Carisi lied, jerking his wide blue stare up to Barba’s face. Barba cocked an eyebrow at him. “Sorry.”

“For the love of God, stop apologizing.”

“I just didn’t think you’d be doing anything but, y’know. Showering.”

Now both of Barba’s brows went up. “I _wasn’t_ doing anything but showering,” he said, which wasn’t technically a lie. He hadn’t gotten around to other tasks, yet. In retrospect, he probably should’ve started there.

“Okay.”

Barba’s eyebrows dipped down into a scowl. “I wasn’t,” he repeated, well aware that he sounded defensive and was protesting too much. What difference did it make? He wasn’t allowed to jerk off in his own shower in the morning? He was a little old for that Catholic guilt, and he really didn’t think Carisi was as prudish as he sometimes seemed. “I wasn’t expecting to see your dick first thing this morning, forgive me for being surprised.”

Barba would willingly offer years from his life to be able to call those words back, to swallow them unvoiced. The silence that followed them was painfully thick.

“Surprised into a boner?” Carisi finally said. His forehead was knitted, but there was the faintest hint of a smile twitching the corners of his lips.

Barba grimaced at the choice of vernacular. “What’re you, twelve?” he muttered.

“Half an hour ago I was five,” Carisi reminded him. He shrugged a shoulder. “Guess I’m immature.”

Barba flicked a pointed glance toward the other man’s crotch. “Your vo _cabulary_ is immature,” he said, unable to stop himself.

Carisi’s smile widened. “Knew you were looking,” he said, and he sounded entirely too smug.

Barba narrowed his eyes. “I never claimed I hadn’t. Like I said, I was surprised.”

“Me, too,” Carisi said. “Like _I_ said, never thought of you as the type.”

“The type of what,” Barba enunciated slowly.

“You just seem so…” Carisi waved a hand toward Barba, clearly trying to think of the right words. “Put-together,” he finally said.

“Put-together?” Barba repeated with disdain. Carisi hadn’t meant to insult him. If anything, Barba knew the other man had meant it as a sort of compliment, and Barba did not want to admit that he was inexplicably wounded by the words. “So, I’m not allowed to have desires? Why? Because I wear nice clothes? Alphabetize my books? Color-coordinate my closet? Tell me, I’m too put- _together_?” He hadn’t meant to blurt any of that out into the air, but he glared at Carisi, refusing to back down.

Carisi took several seconds before he answered. “I wasn’t making fun of you when I commented on the books,” he said slowly. Barba swallowed involuntarily. “And I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I just never pictured it, is all.”

“You don’t need to picture it _now_ ,” Barba snapped. “I didn’t realize you were expending so much energy trying to imagine the possi _bility_ of me having sex—”

“Oh, _that_ I’ve pictured,” Carisi cut in, and Barba’s mouth closed so quickly that his teeth clicked together. After a moment, Carisi offered a crooked smile full of self-deprecation. “I picture that a lot, actually. Just, you know. You _with_ someone.”

“Someone,” Barba repeated.

Carisi’s dimples deepened and he shrugged.

“Elaborate,” Barba commanded when Carisi didn’t say anything else.

“I don’t think I should.”

“Why?”

“You might kick me out.”

Barba scowled. “We’re in the midst of a global pandemic, how big an asshole do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re an asshole at all. Least, not any more than you try to be.”

Barba smiled in spite of himself.

“In fact, I think you’re…sorta great.”

Barba’s stomach fluttered unexpectedly. “Sorta great,” he repeated. He surveyed Carisi’s face—the bright blue eyes, full of sparkle; dimpled cheeks flushed with color; pink, eminently-kissable lips still curved into an embarrassed little smile—and felt a fresh, hot burst of desire. He stepped closer and tipped his head, smiling when Carisi’s throat bobbed. “Sonny. If you wanted to see me naked, you only had to ask.”

“I wasn’t lying just so I could walk in on you in the shower.” Carisi paused. “How big an asshole d’you think I am?”

“I know you’re not an asshole.” Barba stepped even closer. Carisi had just called him ‘sorta great,’ and while Barba had long known that the former detective was no coward, the confession did come as a surprise. Barba wasn’t about to leave him out on that limb alone, though. He had a feeling quarantine was about to become a lot more enjoyable. “You go out of your way not to be.”

Carisi’s smile cut deep lines into his cheeks. “Oh, you noticed.”

“But when the opportunity presented itself, you didn’t…” Barba hesitated, touching the tip of his tongue to his lower lip and watching Carisi’s eyes track the movement. “ _We_ didn’t hesitate, did we?”

“To, uh.” Carisi licked his lip in an unconscious mirroring of Barba’s gesture. “Check each other out, you mean?”

“Hmm. To be fair, you saw a lot more of me than I saw of you.”

“That doesn’t sound fair, actually.”

“No?”

“You want me to…even things up?”

Barba raised his eyebrows. “What, right here in the kitchen?” he teased.

“Did you…um.” Carisi glanced down at Barba’s crotch. “Did you—”

“No. You?”

Carisi laughed breathlessly. “What, did I jerk off in your living room while you were in the shower? No. Thought I was going to have to dump ice cubes down my pants for a few minutes, though.”

“I should’ve invited you into my cold shower.” Barba smiled. “Forgive me for being a bad host.”

“Could’ve invited me into the _warm_ shower.”

“Now there’s an idea.”

“Maybe next time. Do you…I mean, is part of your morning routine…”

“I’d say not every morning, but that’s a little less true since you’ve been here. What can I say, seeing you sleeping on the sofa every morning on my way to the bathroom is…stimulating. And that was _before_ I knew the extent of what you’re somehow hiding in those tight jeans.”

Carisi cleared his throat. “You sure know how to make a guy blush.”

“Want me to stop?”

“No.”

“Good,” Barba said, leaning forward. He tipped his head so his breath was fanning Carisi’s jaw, and Carisi lifted a tentative hand to touch his fingers to Barba’s hip. “Because I haven’t been able to stop thinking about all the things I want you to do to me.”

Carisi released a puff of warm breath against Barba’s temple. “Make me a list, I’m good at following directions.”

Barba chuckled quietly, nosing Carisi’s stubbled jaw for a moment. “If I’m not too _put-together_ for you.”

“I like a challenge.”

Barba laughed again, lifting his head to meet Carisi’s eyes. “I’ll try not to be offended.” He froze, his breath catching in his chest when Carisi suddenly reached up to cup his face.

“I know you have a messy side.”

Barba swallowed. “Filthy,” he agreed on a soft breath.

“I guess you won’t show it to just anyone.” There was an undeniable note of hope in Carisi’s voice, and his thumbs stroked Barba’s cheekbones.

“Takes a certain level of trust to really let someone…mess you up,” Barba said.

“What if I promise to be real gentle?” Carisi asked.

Barba stepped close, pressing Carisi back against the counter. “Don’t you dare,” he said in a low voice, flashing his teeth in a grin when Carisi laughed.


End file.
